


What will you die for?

by mmmajora



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: (but only at the beginning), Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Character Study, Chess Metaphors, Depression, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Recovery, Snowchester, Suicidal Thoughts, Tubbo is Not Having a Good Time, no beta we die like tubbo, post disc war finale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-25
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-16 00:02:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29691984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mmmajora/pseuds/mmmajora
Summary: Tubbo knew chess. He’d played this game before. Every pawn had a role to play, even if it was dying. And if the only way he could make a difference was by dying, then so be it.Or, Tubbo's slow realization that dying isn't the answer, and life will get better.
Relationships: Toby Smith | Tubbo & Ranboo, Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit
Comments: 13
Kudos: 144





	What will you die for?

**Author's Note:**

> This was mainly an exercise to get rid of writers block. I wrote this entire thing in the span of about an hour, and I did not edit it. I do like the direction that it went in, so I decided to post it! I hope you enjoy!
> 
> I will hopefully be back with an update to Every Labyrinth has a minotaur soon, but writer's block is hard.
> 
> Trigger warning for suicidal thoughts and lots of discussion of death.

Tubbo was just a sidekick. He knew, Dream knew it, even Tommy knew it though he would never admit it. He wasn’t worth anything on his own. If the world was a chessboard, he’d be a pawn, destined to die protecting the king.

Tommy was a king. Tommy wasn’t anyone’s sidekick. Unlike Tubbo, Tommy had ideals and visions and wars that he’d fight for. He would never lie down and take the abuse. Tommy fought back, even after everything Dream did to him.

Tubbo didn’t. 

But that was okay.

Tubbo knew chess. He’d played this game before. Every pawn had a role to play, even if it was dying. And if the only way he could make a difference was by dying, then so be it. 

Once, when faced with the possibility of dying, Tommy told Tubbo that he wasn’t a sidekick. That Tommy was actually Tubbo’s sidekick. At the time, the sentiment was sweet. Now, Tubbo sees that it was fueled by panic at the thought of losing Tubbo. 

Tubbo wasn’t scared that day, and he isn’t now. Tubbo knows that sometimes the only way to make a difference is to die for it.

Wilbur knew this too. Wilbur, who blew up L’Manberg minutes after installing Tubbo as president, was right after all. Wilbur begged Phil to kill him, and in death he won. 

Through death, Wilbur was absolved of all crimes. He was Wilbur Soot, former president. He wasn’t Wilbur Soot, traitor, liar, terrorist.

Tubbo wondered about the stories people would write about him after he died. Would they view him as a good friend or would they remember him as a backstabber who exiled the one person he had left? Would he be a president who tried to save a country destined for destruction or would he be the president so spineless he drove a country into the ground? Would he be Tubbo, Tommy’s friend or would he be Tubbo, Dream’s minion?

Only time would tell, and Tubbo wouldn’t be around to hear the answer.

Things had been better. Dream was locked in prison, Tommy was happier, and Tubbo founded Snowchester. 

But happiness didn’t last. It never did. Neither did peace. Sooner or later, there would be a war. And one day, Tubbo wouldn’t come back from war. 

That was his destiny. And wasn’t destiny a fickle bitch?

The more he thought about it, the more he hated it. He realized that no one saw him as anything more than “Tubbo the Sidekick”. He didn’t want to be the sidekick, he wanted to be something. It was why he had Snowchester and the nukes. He wanted to make his own destiny.

Slowly, he realized he didn’t want to die for someone else. If he was going to die, he’d rather do it on his own terms. His life was worth something, and he shouldn’t throw it away. No one deserved his life.

Maybe if he found something to fight for, he could die on his own terms. Maybe…

Fantasies of dying for a friend were nice, but legacies were complicated. If Tubbo wanted a legacy, he’d need to make it.

No matter how good things looked, or how happy he felt, there was still one part of his brain fixated on the idea of dying on his own terms. He knew it wasn’t healthy, he knew it wasn’t good, but _god_ did the idea of taking control of his destiny sound good.

Tubbo knew so many things, but when the world was quiet and his brain was loud, it felt like maybe Wilbur had the right idea. If he died now, no one could manipulate him again. He wouldn’t be a pawn anymore.

Some nights, the worst nights, Tubbo would go sit in the nuclear weapons facility and just think. With so much firepower, it would be easy. They could call it a tragic accident if they wanted, but Tubbo wouldn’t be around to hear it.

But then the sun would rise, and Tommy would come to him with a new idea or Ranboo would hang out or Jack would say hello just to see him. And the nukes would be untouched for another day, while Tubbo pretended he wasn’t falling tempted.

The nukes sat untouched for weeks, and slowly the worst nights became less and less frequent. He wasn’t free from the pull of death, but he could walk past a ledge without looking down. And when the thoughts became too much, there was always someone to talk to. There was always something to do.

Tubbo wouldn’t die just yet. Not by his own hand.

He hadn’t found something worth dying for, he told himself. He was still in control of his destiny, he would still die on his terms. He just hadn’t decided it yet.

Maybe, deep down, he’d stopped looking for things to die for and started looking for things to live for.

On one particularly bad night, Ranboo asked him, “So what are you going to do now that Snowchester is independent?”

Tubbo couldn’t think of anything. He could only picture his death and “dying” didn’t seem like a good answer. He knew that he should have goals, should have aspirations, but nothing came to mind.

He just shrugged.

The question didn’t leave his mind. What would he do next? It was true, Snowchester didn’t need much work anymore. He would need a new project. Maybe he’d finally find the thing worth dying for.

But even as he thought about it, he couldn’t imagine anything that would be worth dying for. He didn’t have the passion that Wilbur had, the fire of Tommy, or even the loyalty of Ranboo. 

What did Tubbo have? He had Snowchester, he had his nukes, he had some projects and builds like the ocean monument. But was any of it worth dying for?

No.

Tubbo needed to find something else. Snowchester was practically finished, and he didn’t have anything else to do. Sure, he had friends, but he’d told himself he wouldn’t die for them a long time ago.

He would have to keep looking.

He and Tommy were sitting on their bench, listening to mellohi. Tubbo asked, “Do you ever think about dying? Like what would be worth dying for or how you’d want to go?”

“Nah, big man. Besides, I’m pretty much invincible at this point, so I’d rather focus on what I’m gonna do while I’m still here. I just focus on getting women and big man things, not dying or any of that shit,” Tommy laughed.

Tubbo laughed too. Friends were good, even if they weren’t worth dying for.

Just like Ranboo’s question stuck in his head, so did Tommy’s comment. If Tubbo couldn’t find something to die for, he’d have to keep living, and if he kept living, what would he do?

He needed to find something to start living for.

And wasn’t that such a weird thought. For so long, Tubbo lived every day knowing he could die at the hands of a hundred more powerful people. From the start of the War for Independence to the final confrontation for the discs, Tubbo knew his life was constantly in danger.

He wasn’t in danger anymore. He could live for something. He didn’t need to die.

This new revelation didn’t erase the hurt. Some nights were still spent with the nukes, and ledges never quite lost their appeal. He would sometimes lie awake at night, thinking of things to die for. 

Once, he considered dying for Tommy, a thought that hadn’t crossed his mind in ages. He shook it off, refusing to consider it. He’d long ago decided to die for himself, no one else.

Maybe, just maybe, he could live for Tommy instead. 

With the bad days, came the good days too. And just like the nights with nukes became less frequent, so did Tubbo’s desire to die for something.

Instead, he started looking for what made him happy. His friends, Snowchester, even the bees that lived nearby. They all brought a smile to his face and helped chase away the bad days.

He didn’t need to die for anything. He could live instead.

“Did you ever figure out what you wanted to do next?” Ranboo asked.

“I’m just trying to be happy. After everything, I deserve it.”

The sun was setting, but Tubbo was surrounded by friends. He was living.

That was enough for now.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I feel like Tubbo is a very underdeveloped (both in canon and in fic) and I've been seeing a couple theories about how Tubbo seems so quick to die and is so apathetic, it's almost like he's depressed. That was the main inspiration behind this. Also I saw a good prompt and then spiraled in a completely different direction.
> 
> This was supposed to be angsty ending in Tubbo dying in Tommy's arms, but as I've said before, I am physically incapable of writing sad endings, so you get recovery instead. 
> 
> Comments and kudos are always appreciated, and my tumblr is @mmajora if you want to come yell at me there!


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